Two weeks, and everything in my life had settled into everything I’d never dreamed could be mine. Watching Marshall fall in love with Silas had been agony, not because he didn’t deserve it, but because it had drawn into such a startling clarity how much Idid. After a life spent pretending I didn’t care about that kind of partnership, Lincoln had come into my life like a hurricane and proved me wrong in a thousand different ways.
I was glad he was mine. Glad I would get to go home to him at the end of the night.
The rest of dinner passed as it had before, with friendly conversation about work and life. We were supposed to see Andrew again in a couple of weeks. He’d endeared himself permanently with our three other brothers after he’d laid Shaw out in front of everyone at the party, and the group chat hadn’t quieted down ever since.
At the end of the night, I said my goodbyes to Marshall and Finn, the latter looking like he’d finally recovered from the heartache over Neil and Annette. I wished he would tell Marshall because he’d always been better about matters of the heart than me, hence why he’d been the sounding board for all of us, Lincoln included. But I respected it wasn’t something he wanted to share. Maybe someday it would matter enough to him, but I knew once Finn fell in love again, it would be for the last time. He was witty and whip smart, but his heart was the biggest of the five of us, and it could only bear the weight of so much repair before it collapsed entirely.
When it was time to say goodbye to Smith, he hesitated, weight shifting from one foot to the other.
“What’s up?” I asked, knowing he needed the prompting.
“Can I come over?”
I thought about the laundry list of vile and depraved things I’d planned to do with Lincoln upon his return from Rapture, then mentally folded it in half and slid it into my pocket.
“Always, but what’s up?”
“I just…”
“Of course,” I assured him. “No explanation needed.”
I wanted more than anything to ask why Smith had attached himself to me not Marshall, but I suspected Marshall might be part of the problem. Not that he’d done anything wrong, but I had the distinct impression Smith was desperate to break out of the shadow he’d stepped into, and separating himself from Marshall was a huge part of that.
I told Smith I’d meet him at home, then fired off a text to Lincoln to let him know not to burst into the door naked and ready to fuck. My boyfriend didn’t seen fazed at all that another Covington was going to be in the house upon his return, and I thought about that the whole drive home. Again, the comfort, the welcome, the safety that Lincoln had brought out in me, that I’d been able to share with not just him but also my brothers.
At the apartment, I fed Feeny and dug out some pajamas for Smith. He changed in the guest room and came back out, hoodie still on—which was suspicious.
“Did you want me to turn the heater on?” I asked.
He shook his head, and I wondered if his neck was covered in hickeys or something else that he wanted to keep hidden. Not that it mattered, so I poured us both a drink and together we settled in on the couch. I gave him the remote and let him put on a show. It took an entire episode, but Smith finally relaxed.
Three hours later, Lincoln made it home. He gave me a kiss on the lips, then kissed Smith on the corner of his mouth, and promptly dragged me off to the bedroom, laughing the whole way. Smith took it in stride, assuring me he’d turn off the lights and lock up when he was ready to call it a night.
Lincoln kicked the door to my bedroom closed behind us and made quick work of stripping out of his clothes. His shorts were around his ankles, harness still strapped across his upper body when he bent over the bed and spread his ass cheeks apart, giving me an up close and personal view of the plug he’d sent a picture of earlier.
“I need you, Daddy,” he whimpered.
My cock immediately hardened, and I pulled it out of my pajamas on my way toward him. Smoothing my hands over the warm globes of his ass, I gave him two gentle pats against the backs of his thighs. Lincoln groaned and pushed back against me with a playful wiggle.
The limits of our scenes were a constantly shifting thing, but not in a way that felt impossible to manage. Lincoln was still learning how to lean into submission without losing himself, and pain was sometimes now a part of that for us. Dragging my hand to the inside of his leg, I pinched his thigh, and Lincoln whimpered again, burying his face in the sheets.
“You have to be so quiet,” I chided, flipping open the lube and smearing some down my shaft. “Can you do that, or do you need help?”
Another whimper.
“Help,” he croaked.
“Okay,” I told him, twisting and tugging the plug until it slid out of his ass with a plop. The resulting gape had precum pulsing out of my dick, and I wasted no time plunging all the way into him. “Daddy’s got you.”
Fully buried in Lincoln’s ass, I grabbed his harness with one hand and hauled him up so his back arched in the sexiest angle I’d ever seen, and I slid my other hand over his mouth, ready to stifle whatever noises he was about to make. His mouth was wet against my palm, and I set a pace intended to drive him right tothe edge and over it. Lincoln had been teasing me with his body all day long, and it was time for him to pay the price.
The sound of our skin slapping together drowned out the grunts and groans he loosed against my hand, and I held tight to him until a familiar heat started to burn low and hot at the base of my spine. Taking my hand away from his mouth, I grabbed Lincoln around his waist and started to fuck into him in earnest, harder thrusts designed to make me come.
“That’s it, Daddy. That’s so good. You’re so good,” he stammered, trying to be quiet. “You’re the best boy, oh fuck. Nobody fucks me the way you do.”
“Touch yourself,” I demanded.
He grabbed his cock and stroked himself twice, not even trying to stifle the cry that tumbled out of his mouth when he came. I shoved his face down into the sheets and drove into him once more, the pressure of my own release finally exploding. I came inside of him with a rolling growl, fingers gouging into his hips to hold him steady.
